evelyn p. reed

Had there ever been a specimen so closely watched in a controlled experiment like she was with him? Could a scientist watching a rodent claim to witness the destruction of the inner workings of its mind like her display was offering him? A tangent of emotion, breaking out in the same phrase with different inflections. Fuck. Pain. Fuck you. Distaste. Her many layers condescend to two, seemingly interchangeable.

“I wasn’t aware rekindling trauma caused one’s grasp of the English language to dissolve. Imagine how lackluster your brother’s statement to the police would have been had they found him. It must be consoling to know you saved him the embarrassment.”

It was fuel to the fire, another splash eliciting a new flash. He was neutral, cold, calculating, while she sparked confusion, hatred, acrimony. No matter how many twists there were, the road was on a collision course to acceptance, no argument, no doubt to what Sebastian said. She did not deny him, unlike the polaroid once in her hand, fluttering through the air to land at his feet. For another time in her life, she was able to cast the boy out, flicking him away from her sights like all those years before. Nostalgic.

Her rant riled the air, only for silence to follow, chilled by the expression that was unmoved, eyes with the bare sheen of someone finished with watching a live performance. Taking her seriously with the heavy veil of emotion tangling around her was impossible, a tantrum that Sebastian had no desire to lull.

“How brave,” he spoke, simple sentence rolling from his lips. “Will you be crying during the act, or will you have already spilled all your tears before then?”

There was no more reason to stay within the room, stepping past her, boot over Aaron’s face in the short travel to the stairs. “I’ll have my answer when we meet him tomorrow,” he dropped the words on her, light from his lips, potentially heavy on her shoulders. The wooden planks creaked behind her, the sure sign of his ascent. “When you recover, bring the photo, will you? Keeping it for the shrine of all your failures will have to wait.”

For once, Evelyn felt there was no use in retaliating against Sebastian’s mockery of her emotions, sure of whatever clever line she could come up he’d only have one better. In the short amount of time she’d had the displeasure of knowing him that is all he ever did: deride her inability to bottle up her emotions and one-up her if given the opportunity. It was a rather annoying price to pay for his help. So what could she do? Cry some more? Give him the satisfaction? Apparently so.

She felt stupid as she angrily wiped at her cheeks once more, swallowing the aching knot stuck in her throat that just wouldn’t go away. By now her cheeks had gone red; the only color left on her face after going pale at the sight of her brother on that photograph. ‘How brave’ If only. 

As Evelyn turned her gaze towards her feet and back to the photograph, she contemplated over the fact that she no longer knew if she found what she was looking for. This little journey of theirs had answered none of her questions and only left her with more. She already knew the world was full of fucked up freaks, she didn’t need proof of that (hardly knew there was one standing nearby). Unable to stare back at the eyes she’d last seen all those years ago, she stepped over the picture, feeling at peace for that brief moment before Sebastian’s voice came barging in again. The news that there was a sequel to their journey came as a surprise to her, chest rising up and down steadily with sudden anguish when she quickly moved her gaze towards him. All she saw were his shoes, which quickly disappeared from view as he left her behind. 

“What do you mean?” Evelyn called out after him, voice hoarse from her unsuccessful attempt to keep it together. Eager for his answer, she hastily picked up the photograph and made it to the bottom of the stairs where instead of looking back at the room like she wanted, looked up. Had Aaron ever gotten that far? “What do you mean?” She repeated, this time with more determination as she ascended up the stairs. “You know this guy.” It was supposed to be a question, for which she already knew the answer. Was the purpose of her being there simply for his amusement then? “You’ve already fucked with my head all day just give me a straight fucking answer, man.” If she sounded defeated and tired it was because she was, hands coming up to rub her temples. 

Eyes scratched over her, watching as she nearly doubled-over in her streaming tears, cursing the situation and undoubtedly life itself. “Try not to force yourself into a nervous breakdown, Reed,” he commented dryly as he was already turning back to look at the snapshots again. “It’s offensive to romanticize mental illness these days.”

If Sebastian’s upbringing had been different, perhaps he would have agreed, but all his focus rested on her answer. He didn’t want to see how she reacted to the topic of molestation and mutilation in general; he wanted to witness her reaction to seeing her brother dangling in front of her, teetering between giving her hope and dread. He wanted to see her pick him out from the line-up, point at him with recognition filling her eyes, and he wanted it to be this boy, the boy with no after-image.

And so it was.

“Congratulations,” he voiced, “you may not be responsible for his death, only his prolonged psychological torture.”

After so much time that had passed, a name had found its way in attaching itself to one of Sebastian’s memories, but it was only that it served as a connector between him and Evelyn that made it stick. Otherwise, it was a useless detail that served no purpose, no sentiment, no reason to continue to live. Just like Aaron himself.

“Have you noticed the common theme between these photos, or were you too distracted with your attempt to break from reality?” The tip of his finger spread each photo apart from the others, the ones that remained, the ones that weren’t Aaron and therefore held no meaning for the time being. None of them could be as special as little Aaron Reed, particularly to Evelyn Reed. “There are only two locations. The hunting ground”–his finger stayed on one of a blonde girl, happy and laughing at the fair, before moving to the one above it. Same girl, but not happy, not laughing, face half-clinging to her flesh in the woods–“and the butcher’s. He wouldn’t have had the time to be in both places without being captured sooner. Even the police have a limit on their level of incompetency.”

The closest wooded area, one that was secluded like what would be needed, was two hours away in one direction. Juggling the position of the operator of the ride, scouting out potential victims, kidnapping them, taking them away, mutilating them, coming back and repeating the process? Impractical.

“Tell me, Reed, what does that imply if one pedophile could not accomplish this?”

Had it not been for the circumstances, Evelyn would have felt embarrassed over the tears that came pouring out of her. It wasn’t like her to allow herself to cry in front of anyone, specially not someone who was technically still a stranger. Yet when faced with a picture of her disappeared brother there was nothing else she could do; tears flowing down her cheeks, the photographs below her now tainted with her pain. “Fuck, man.” It was so easy to turn that pain into something she was better at. Anger. Her words, although still broken, were rougher than they were before. Grittier. Aaron stared back at her it was as if he’d never gone. As if she’d step out that room and there he’d be, rushing her to move on to the next ride with that foul mouth of his he undoubtedly inherited from his big sister. It’d be a happy ending, which let Evelyn know it was complete bullshit.

Happy endings were reserved for those people who deserved it, and Evelyn Reed was far from deserving of anything good. At least that’s what she believed. Her hands found their way to her face where she wiped away her tears, swallowing back even more sobs as she felt pure agony for a moment before forcing herself to get the fuck over it. Get it together. Shifting her attention from her brother to Sebastian, Evelyn felt her jaw clench at his mocking words. “Oh fuck you, Steele.” She didn’t need a reminder that everything that was happening was her fault. She already knew that. Even so, Evelyn couldn’t decide what concept was worse: that her brother was dead, or that her brother was being kept alive to please some sick fuck out there. The latter was selfish, was she a bad person for wishing that to be truth? 

As Sebastian went on, Evelyn thought up of another hundred comebacks to his snide remarks but had no energy for any of it. Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, she was already exhausted and things had just begun. Her eyes were still wet, and her throat still hurt— was still in a tight knot. She didn’t look at the photographs just yet when Sebastian started with his question, instead choosing to shut her eyes and take a ragged breath as preparation before ultimately glancing down. She thought it fucked up how she felt like she was invading someone’s privacy, looking back and forth at the before and after shots. It was the after shot that maintained most of her attention, to the point where she tugged it away from Sebastian’s hold and held it up higher to get a better look at it. It occurred to her that humans were fragile things. One moment they could be bright eyed and smiling from ear to ear, and the other dismembered in the middle of nowhere. They were just walking flesh and bone until they either expired or someone else obliterated them. She thought all of this with Sebastian’s voice in the background, not looking his way again until his last set of words.

“What?” Evelyn lowered the picture, shaking her head, tears threatening to come out again. If she looked confused for the moment that followed it’s because she was, a lost look on her face as she tried piecing it all together in a way that wasn’t completely fucked up. Unfortunately for her, every conclusion was the same. “Great!” Evelyn found it in herself to smile sarcastically even then, flicking off the photograph in her hand, letting it land wherever it pleased. Again, anger was much easier to handle for her. “Yeah, that’s fucking fantastic!” A bitter laugh, a tear streaming down her face. “What, is there a club now? They have their secret fucking handshake? Have weekly meetings and talk about the hot piece of ass twelve year old they got locked up in their basement over a cup of tea?” Evelyn’s voice had significantly raised as her rant went on, ending in her slamming the table in front of them, releasing that painful sob that’d been knotting up her throat. “I’m gonna kick his fucking ass when I find him.”

have you seen aaron reed? | an evelyn reed playlist

Shards of ramen noodles were encrusted on the prongs of the fork Sebastian held. Perhaps somewhere in the room the styrofoam carton was still lingering, aiding in nature’s way to prolong the fungi kingdom. This same utensil that was in his grasp was the same one the operator used. Such a simple tool. How commonplace, unremarkable, and unextraordinary. A contrast to being filled with mementos of pedophilia. It twisted, letting the shirt that hung to it slip off, falling back into the box. The fork followed it, tumbling from the man’s uncaring touch.

In the background, Evelyn’s response was heard. He didn’t immediately turn to look at her. He could hear her tears perfectly fine without needing to look at them. Her additional comment was what let his eyes wander over to her. By now, she was investigating on her own.

“Are you under the belief you’re clairvoyant now?” he asked in a musing voice. “The delusion doesn’t serve you well.”

Soon after, the cracking of a screen was heard from Eveyln’s phone, followed by the sharp intake of air. It brought on a sense of curiosity instead of nerves or empathy from him, maybe a hint of satisfaction even that there was something more to be found.

In a time before digital cameras and wifi, the Polaroid camera wasn’t the obsolete novelty it was today; it was the instant method of documentation, where words alone could not compare. He plucked the photos from her hand, feeling their almost vinyl-like texture. The one that was on top of the pile undoubtedly was the one that made her react. For him, it made him pull back a memory from years ago. In the photo was something that not many would instantly recognize. The deformity of the human tissue tricks the human mind, only realizing seconds later that it is the hidden body it resides in. The mind is too coddled by the idea of the untouched exterior, forgetting what lies beneath. In this particular snapshot, though, only someone that’s familiar with fire as well as Sebastian would immediately understand.

As if reading a book, he flipped to the next one, seeing what could be called ‘the before’ image. Female. Age range between twelve and thirteen. Barrettes in her brown hair and braces around her teeth, clearly unaware of the photo being taken of her. She, too, was a familiar sight, but the memory of her was much more languid and frayed. These were postcards with the phrase “wishing you were here” sprawled along the top. Sebastian’s face didn’t betray him, as it never did, looking through them all in the same way, sorting out the young boys from the rest.

“They’re uneven,” he finally spoke. “One of them doesn’t come with a mutilated finale.”

The stack he had organized contained five atrocities and six happy boys, handing them to her in their proper before-and-after form.

“Pick which one is your brother.”

Evelyn could be slow at times, partly due to her lack of her schooling, but she had been able to recognize what she saw in those polaroids. At first she was confused; thought that she had found a bunch of old photographs with no meaning, but it was the image of a small, bloody hand wrapped around a stuffed animal with rope tied around their wrist that finally processed what she had stumbled upon. That one wasn’t even the worst.

It wasn’t as if she could look away either, her tear filled eyes unable to glance any other way despite the fact that she had never seen such a thing before. Movies were not an accurate representation of someone’s inside, that now she knew. When she did finally look away it was to look at Sebastian, who like always seemed unbothered. Evelyn could only wish she could be like that, but no she was weak. As he finished looking through them, she took the chance to retriever her phone. Her screen was cracked yet she was too distressed to to think about the fact that she was going to have to walk around with it as it, unable to pay for the repair. 

“This is fucked up.” She finally spoke, burying her face in her hands to wipe her tears; telling herself to man the fuck up and get it together. She did as told and forced herself to look in front of her again, her heart skipping a beat when the one photograph without a not-so-happy ending showed Aaron. Her eyes swelled up with tears again despite her best effort, pushing past Sebastian; wanting to completely make sure that she was seeing correctly. “This is him.” She answered, reaching for the photograph and hoping he hadn’t seen the way her hand trembled. “This is Aaron.” She smiled briefly, staring back at her brother. 

No one knew Sebastian. They knew his name. They knew the rumors. They even knew a snippet of his past that the media was able to exploit. But they did not know him. Anyone that could would say that he had a death wish, but those that knew him better would tell you that he only liked to tease Death, make him work and struggle and eventually table his efforts for another day, swearing he would return. There was a reason Sebastian never went anywhere without a weapon on him, ideally two: one in the form of a gun for long-range, and the other being a pocket-knife for close-range.

The gun was not put away as he entered the room, continuing to grip it as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The gearwork for the ride came in the form of a long rod, coming down from top to bottom. The final step of the short stairs led to a motor, now full of cobwebs from its lack of use, sitting in disregard in the small, circular room that smelled like mildew. No one had visited this space for several years.

His revolver was finally attached at his hip, back in its rightful place, trading it out for something much less dangerous: a cellphone. The light was turned on just as Evelyn spoke, illuminating the room to show how much disorder it truly was in. There were several cardboard boxes lined up against the walls, most of them with mold near the bottom while others were homes to the spiders that dominated the enclosure. Sebastian counted six in total with one of them already open, as if the operator of the ride didn’t have time to close it properly like the rest. It took three steps forward for him to reach them, looking inside the one that had its flaps drawn outward with the light sprawled over the contents. They looked familiar for a reason.

To Evelyn’s question, the answer to him was obvious before they had walked in, further confirmed by the contents of the box.

His free hand took a used fork that had been laying on the side since its last meal, twisting it once around in his palm. “This place is where sentiment and perversion intersect,” he spoke, using the fork to pick up a boy’s shirt by the neckline, hanging it out for her to see. “It’s also what you’ve been looking for.”

Entering the clandestine room was uncanny; too soon to tell what Evelyn was supposed to feel. By all means it seemed like just another room part of the ride, maybe where all the mechanics took place, but that was just wishful thinking. Her senses failed and got the best of her, Evelyn’s heart feeling like if a wrong move was made her heart would explode and she’d cease to exist. Which at that moment didn’t seem like the worst of outcomes.

Her eyes followed Sebastian’s phone light in attempts of recognizing something with little luck, eventually reaching for her own phone— fingers trembling out of fear of the unknown. Despite being obviously startled by everything, there was also a numbness to it all. She was frightened by what she didn’t recognize but composed to what it could all mean. She could and undoubtedly would cry, but it wasn’t as if these things hadn’t gone through her head. The fact that it was all becoming a reality was what scared her.

And so the tears did eventually made themselves known when she looked at the shirt hanging from a fork. “Fuck!” She cursed heatedly at no one in particular, lacking proper words, her free hand coming to wipe away her tears. “Before you say it, I’m pathetic, I know.” She didn’t fail to add in response to her weakness showing, talking to the shirt if anything. 

Not wanting to make a bigger fool of herself, she stepped away from Sebastian and continued to look by herself, her phone lighting up what appeared to be even more unlabeled boxes. Her imagination told her it was even more clothes; shirts with cartoons drawn on them and raggedy shorts, filthy shoes that were once spotless. 

But she didn’t want to be right and so she didn’t even dare touch them, instead focusing on everything else, including a workstation desk. Said desk had obviously been untouched for quite some time, proven by the dust that covered Evelyn’s finger when she ran in across the table top. Wasting no time to rummage through the cabinets, it seemed almost mundane for the exception of a decorative tin box which Evelyn opened up, head tilting to the side until she registered that the content of it was polaroids. With the one staring back at her appearing to be innocent enough, she started to go through them until it turned ugly; her phone falling to the ground as she gasped out loud and stepped aback. 

Many people walk away and all of them have their reasons. Sebastian was not an exception. And like everyone else, there comes a time when one is given a litmus test, but usually that is delivered by the hands of fate. In Evelyn’s case, it was brought on like a plague from the man dressed in black as if he was Death himself. Every step that Sebastian took that distanced himself from the young woman increased the pressure in this test. Every step, every rustle of grass, and every breath of fresh air not tainted by tobacco brought on the reality that he could simply vanish from her, taking his services with him. This was a fact that he was keenly aware of, harnessing it even after her hurried footsteps were heard behind him.

Yes, he heard her coming. How could he not when she told him to stop? But hearing and obeying are not the same. The steps continued, undisturbed in their pace. She would have to want this. She would have to need this. She would have to beg to show that he was her last resort, that no other option was available. So, Evelyn did just that when she pulled on his arm and came up against him, spilling out her breath in admission. There truly was no other way it seemed. Not to her.

He took a calculated moment to look over her face, to let her feel that he could easily remove her hand and go on his way. The thin lips parted faintly, a “tsk” striking from the tongue behind them.

“Your memory must be exclusively short-term,” he spoke, moving his arm out of her hold in a fluid motion, not jerking away nor one that would be particularly urgent. “The amount of consequences you’ve amassed must be impressive, but they never seem familiar enough to you to know when they’re close-by.”

With his hands free, one reached within his jacket, riding along the side. Pulled out was a revolver, glinting in the sunlight. The hammer was pulled back, heard and shown to be undeniable. Sebastian’s motions were second-nature, not needing to look at the weapon in his hand to ready it, staying on Evelyn instead. His attention seemed to be centered on her, willfully and unwavering. It may have been unnerving to see someone as collected as he was with something that could cause a hole in your skull within his grip. 

Gun raised, trigger pulled, bullet fired with a resounding bang and a small crash that tangled in its aftermath. All of it to his side, away from the woman. The target that was hit was lined in the mirrors left behind on the ride, ricocheting off to smash some more before being lodged in one of the horses, perhaps. Precisely, the target that was hit was what was needed. It was the entrance to the center of the carousel, the one once locked away before Sebastian’s gun came into its existence.

“Try not to lose your brother a second time, Reed,” he went on, eyes resuming their post on her briefly before moving forward to see what was waiting for them inside.

Pride was something Evelyn had only recently acquired. Most often that not, she wasn’t one to care of what others may think of her. If she did she would have crashed and burned; would have allowed herself to be swallowed by something incomprehensible that would remind her that she wasn’t good enough. Not for her mom or dad, her child, or herself. Therefore she didn’t want to care, but recently she was finding it hard not to and the current situation with Sebastian wasn’t any different. She had to swallow that pride and ask for help, and it was killing her. 

She hadn’t even been fully aware that she had reached out to grab Sebastian until he pulled away, the motion eliciting her to take a step back for herself more than anything. She didn’t want to become this needy, persistent person. But Sebastian wasn’t as thoughtful or easy to work with, and with him she knew she had to ask. At least she hadn’t turned to begging yet, which she was grateful for but also worried for. Begging was not in her plans, but Evelyn herself wasn’t in Sebastian’s plan and that she knew. 

His words made no sense to her nor did his actions, the moment she saw the gun in his hands fearing that her search was about to come to an end. Sebastian was... different, and Evelyn couldn’t trust him but he was there and no one else wasn’t. Her options were limited and whether she liked it or not she was going to have to gamble. That didn’t stop her from showing her fear, of course, which made its presence in the form of tight-shut eyes and hands that came to a rest on her chest as if to protect her own heart. For a moment there she genuinely thought he was going to shoot her and there was no way to hide it. What bothered her now was that the fact that she was scared of him was out in the air now for both of them to know. Evelyn put up a good fight but it only proved she could feel fear.

When her eyes opened again, it was when Sebastian was walking away from her, her startled self having to look over her shoulder to see the man walking towards the ride again. The words Try not to loose your brother a second time, Reed irked her more than Sebastian could know, but there was no time for that. Evelyn hurried to follow him, eyes casting over the destruction that a simple bullet had caused, for a moment staring at her own reflection on the shattered glass. She’d always thought she wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and if anything looked like shit. Was it selfish for her to be thinking of such things at that moment? Yes. Still, she mused to herself that she could have at least put on some damn lipstick.

The sound of shattered glass and trash resounded as Evelyn stepped over them, her hands holding on to whatever walls were on her sides as she followed Sebastian down a short flight of stairs. The room was dark, and old. Probably hadn’t been used in some time. “What the fuck.” She breathed, taking the last step and letting her eyes roam. She didn’t know what she was looking at, or even what she looking for. What she did know was that it felt all wrong, the aura of the room very far away from a hapy, go-lucky place. She stared at the walls, the floor, and then at Sebastian. She was a deer in headlights and needed some direction, even if it was from Sebastian Steele himself. “What is this place?” The words trembled despite her best attempts. 

Sebastian’s expressiveness came in the minute details. When Evelyn muttered her curse at him, the corner of his lips twisted upward and a single brow on the opposite side raised. Devoid of irritation, of guilt, of general concern. The facial muscles tugged slightly only from traces of amusement. All because she could not handle her circumstances that she created for herself. She was the one that came to him, not the other way around. She was the one that took on unneccessary guilt when she didn’t need to. She was the cause of her own misery, and she was blind to it. But he let her finish, watching as if she was throwing a rope around her feet and pulling as hard as she could. It must be difficult to stay standing when your mind is being washed away by the waves of emotion.

All this time, his eyes did not leave hers, clashing against them in the moment where she stared back at him. Her statement hung in the air thickly, enough for even her to feel its weight as she offered distance. Sebastian, however, was not interested in the space. In the silence, the crackling of scattered mirrors filled it as he moved closer, slinking forward with control in every gesture, right down to the arches of his feet. Evelyn’s personal bubble was popped the moment he stepped into it, nearly having the edge of his shoe brush against hers. His head tilted down to align to her height, and in the lowest voice that came crawling up his throat to breathe down against her lips, he spoke.

“You’re owed nothing from me.”

The crackling continued, stepping around her, beyond her, before it was traded for the rustle of unkempt grass.

Evelyn felt herself step back as soon as she saw Sebastian move forwards, fearful for a moment. More often than not, she was the type of person to spit out words without a second thought and it was what caught her in trouble the most. She didn’t think of the consequences until it was all said and done, and as much as she attempted to be powerful, she still got scared in the long run. It was just one of her many flaws.

Her eyes widened and her breathing stopped when Sebastian came to a stop directly in front of her face, her light brown eyes sinking into the abyss of his own dark ones. He was by all means a stranger to her life and vice versa; the last thing she had expected was for him to get so close. 

His voice was cavernous and menacing at the same time, leaving Evelyn speechless but not restless. There was no going back in regards to her brother, and whether she liked it or not Sebastian Steele could gather more information than she ever could. After all, his family name made things completely easy for them around town while someone like Evelyn would be thrown out when she demanded answers from the precinct. She needed him, not the other way around. 

“Stop!” She swallowed her pride and called out after him, following behind as he kept going and almost falling when she leaped off of the ride hurriedly. “I need your fucking help, okay?” Evelyn pulled at him from his arm until they faced each other again, this time stepping into his own personal space. “I can’t do this shit on my own, man.” 

“Were you expecting me to hold you until you grew out of your self-pity?” he asked, nearly amused by the reaction. “The sun would burn out before then.” If she felt rejection, Sebastian could only exasperate it. Perhaps she was oblivious to it, but the fact remained that this was all for her, not her brother. She came to this defunct carnival to dig herself deeper into this world of loss. It wasn’t all loss, though. She gained a lifetime of shadows to live in, an automatic card to anyone else’s empathy, and expectations too high for her to reach. Survivor’s remorse. Except Evelyn Reed was no survivor. She was never in any danger to survive through, making her all the more desperate in her actions.

Sebastian’s head was turned slightly, looking over his shoulder as she gave a familiar answer. It wasn’t surprising, but from her vocal outburst from before, it would have been better to see that same amount of passion in something constructive. Slowly, he moved to face her direction fully to get the entire effect of her reaction, even if it was being hidden by her palms. “Considering that it didn’t take long for you to make the connection, you must have noticed the signs before,” he answered with his eyes following her away. “Did you notice the look he would give you and your brother?” he went on before a small hum curled around the back of his throat, morphing into a lowly voice. “But perhaps you were always exempt from attention.” He made no movement otherwise to go with her. His feet were in no hurry, staying as they were as he heard her command, the command that wasn’t delivered to him eye-to-eye, shying herself away from wanting to be here.

“The carousel no longer appeals to you,” he spoke instead. “Is its reputation too unclean for you, or do you feel like an accomplice now?”

Sebastian’s words only managed to anger Evelyn, who felt a whirlwind of emotions. She could have bursted out crying or simply stayed quiet, but the more the man spoke the more he got under her skin. He hadn’t been there when it all happened and hadn’t felt the guilt imposed on her for the years to come. All he knew was what she had told him, at least to her knowledge. How dare he judge her? How dare he even begin to suppose things about her? Her parents were another thing, but essentially a complete stranger was another. 

"Fuck you.” Evelyn scoffed under her breath, a bitter laugh following suit. She’d never been too graceful with her words. “You don’t get to judge me. You don’t get to do anything.” She approached him with purpose, almost like a challenge. “I came for you for help and its as if any piece of information comes with a sarcastic comment or an unwanted psychoanalysis therapy session and I am tired of your little bullshit games, Steele.” She laughed again before sorrow came rushing in, evident in the way her expression changed. The alternative to anger was crying, and not enough had been presented in front of her for her to even consider the action as acceptable. 

“So tell me if you’re going to make yourself useful at any point today.” She stared at him for only a split second longer before deeming the eye contact inappropriate, stepping away and mulling over her words. 

Sebastian was not a man that pitied. He didn’t care for sympathy or empathy and gave none of it in return. As Evelyn countered him, he watched as she became animated. She acted like a cornered animal, defending herself. She was defending herself while simultaneously taking ownership, in a manner of speaking. The way the words were articulated, he noticed their sharp edges. Taking responsibility was not done so with grace in her case.

In the heat of her moment, Sebastian practically seemed disinterested as a lone finger trailed over the grooves he caused in the wooden figure. The glass that caused it was still sticking out from the animal, acting like a dissection of carnival goods. Had it been alive, a river of crimson would be trickling down to its nostrils, pooling there until snorted. There was something to be said about experience livening one’s imagination. However, that wasn’t all that was noted, answering a distinct flaw the moment he had laid eyes on it.

“Inhale, Reed,” he remarked, “your mouth could use the change. It must get bored of constantly forming the word “I” all the time.” 

With words tossed out like an old magazine, he stepped past her, looking at the center of the carousel. A quarter of the mirrors that lined it were lying on the floor while the rest remained in its rightful place. Sebastian’s reflection was not staring back at him, instead the eyes were focused along one of the edges where a hinge was discreetly placed, running down the length.

“Tell me,” he spoke again, “what do you remember of the operator for this ride?”

"Are you fucking kidding me?” Evelyn replied almost instantly to Sebastian’s words, the disdain she felt clear in her tone of voice. She wasn’t able to tell if this man cared at all about her situation; or rather chose to believe that if he didn’t care at all he wouldn’t bother wasting his time with her. The more time she spent with him, the more she wished and hoped he would show any sign of sympathy towards her. It was something she always craved for regardless of who it was: acceptance. She was as cliché as it could get: a girl hiding her desire for attention behind a tough exterior and ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude. Not that she was very good at playing the part.

She eyed him incredulously as he walked past her, feeling almost rejected as it was clear everything she said was simply pushed aside to make room for his own agenda. Why she even bothered to make a date for herself on it was a mystery. Although Sebastian’s attention was enthralled by something other than the Evelyn herself, she kept on following him with her own eyes. She didn’t know him well enough, or at all really— but the feeling of being closer to finding her brother every time she was near him kept her coming back. Even with his clear lack of empathy on his part and disregard of her words, the one thing Evelyn never felt was that she wasn’t wanted around. It was a strange, otherworldly feeling she became curious about.

“I don’t.” Her answer came after a beat in which Evelyn, who was caught off guard by the question, started questioning everything. Was the man she had seen the operator of the ride? Was he not just an attendee like the rest? Most importantly, why hadn’t her father- the only one who had stayed in their hometown- bothered to inform his family when the news first broke out? Pushing hair out of her face, Evelyn buried her face in her hands and took a long, deep breath. She knew what she hadn’t gotten herself into, and yet it was still all too much. “Was-” She searched for words, “Was the man who was accused of molestation the operator of this ride?” It was a statement more than a question, in which she finally looked away from Sebastian and began to walk away from him in the other direction. She didn’t want to touch anything, not willingly. How was it that he was much more brave than her, who as a child hadn’t gone through what he had? “I need his name.” 

She had been called on her mistake, and now she was making a show of threading her mind back into that period. She had touched the fringes of the old memories, but would she approach the withered heart of it? Pulling herself up to the ride Sebastian was already standing on, gazing out and walking around, anyone could afford that much exertion. It wasn’t a testament of determination; it was barely a beginning. Then, after a few moments of languid efforts, she came to her conclusion.

Excuse.

After excuse.

After excuse.

Within the first two words, Sebastian already knew the trajectory, making her a secondary priority for his attention. By the time she was starting on her next line, his fingers wrapped around one of the shards of polished glass from the floor. Evelyn continued to speak, seemingly unaware of his lack of responsiveness towards it, while he twirled the jagged piece between his digits, brushing against his palm. The other remnants cracked and scratched as he took a couple of steps away, stopping at one of the horses that was in better shape than the others. The wooden creature was still bored by insects and the paint was chipping, but it was still intact, it was still usable, it was still willing to be a part of the dysfunctional landscape with a stoic charm. 

“Your brother may be among the living,” he said as his head turned back to her with that same easiness he had carried. “If he is alive,” he went on, letting the tip of the mirror dance slowly against the forehead of the inanimate beast, “what do you believe he would remember from the time he was ten?”

The sun glared off of the mirror as the point stripped down the paint from forehead to muzzle, carving into the wood beneath. The motion nipped at Sebastian’s skin from his grip, drawing scarlet, but it didn’t seem to register with his nerves. He continued to play with it, drawing it back to it’s original spot, hovering right above it, as if nothing happened.

“Do you think he would be unable to remember what had happened to him at that age?” he asked. “Or would he be unable to have that luxury you seem to have?”

Sebastian’s hand was merely an inch above the horse before jamming the glass into the forelock, letting it stick out like a horn with blood edging it. His eyes pierced hers as if they were brethren to what had just assaulted the horse.

“If you aren’t willing to do something this exhaustive, it shouldn’t have disappointed your family when your brother disappeared–they should have expected it from you.”

Once words left Sebastian’s mouth, Evelyn wished he had remained silent. 

When asked about the moment of Aaron’s disappearance, Evelyn always answered the same way: “I don’t remember”. The police didn’t question it and surely did not want to push a ten year old to relive a traumatic experience, but Evelyn’s parents weren’t always as kind. Her dad in particular drilled the idea that everything had been her fault, which was perhaps the reason Evelyn was even looking now in the first place. She was never enough for anyone. Not for her dad, her mom, or even the father of her son; she aimed to please and missed the target every time. Sebastian’s words only reminded her of that.

Following his gaze, she couldn’t help but feel attacked. Sebastian’s voice was both stoic and nonchalant, not a hint of doubt in any of his words. He was someone who made statements, that much was clear. Evelyn on the other hand had been questioning things her whole life, and that was because she felt no real purpose in the world. Everything she did was wrong, and anyone who stuck around long enough learned to loathe her at some point. Sometimes, she thought of Aaron as lucky because he wasn’t able to stay long enough for him to hate her. 

“What do you want to hear from me?” Evelyn’s resentfulness showed, her eyes now captivated by the actions Sebastian was doing. What was he doing? “That I do remember but choose to ignore it? That it’s my fault because I was supposed to be looking out for him not riding this stupid fucking thing.” Evelyn was on the verge of exasperation at this point, talking with her hands and moving closer to Sebastian. “That I did see someone with him. A man. And that I didn’t tell my parents or the cops or anyone because I thought ‘Hey, if I do tell them then they’re only going to blame me more’. If that’s what you want to hear then there you have it. It’s my fault. And you don’t have to remind me because I already know.”